New Games To Play
by KeatsLove
Summary: In between CotBP and DMC. Will and Elizabeth are enjoying 'alone time' in the woods. Elizabeth comes up with a 'new game' but Will wants to play 'doctor.'
1. Chapter 1

New Games To Play

"Hold up, Will. Will, _wait_," I say, shoving him off. He rolls away with several muttered curses and I take the opportunity to sit up, feeling each little twinge and ache from where the twigs and other ground debris poked through the thin blanket he had brought for our "picnic." I pat my hair, realizing it must be a hideous fright, but it is Will's fault. He shouldn't have had his hands up in it. . .Before they moved elsewhere.

"Elizabeth, I am a patient man, but that patience goes only so far," Will grits out through his teeth as if I just slammed his hand in a door. "You can't just--"

"I can't just what?" I challenge. "Honestly, Will, you practically ignore me for two years despite my best efforts, then we go on one little adventure, and now you expect me to trot off to snog in the woods at your beck and call? I don't think so. If you believe that, you've got another thing coming, Mr. Turner."

"That 'one little adventure' nearly got us killed on several occasions." He turns to face me, and I notice I have done my fair share of rearranging his clothing so cannot complain about the state of my dress. "Life is precious, Elizabeth. Shouldn't we take every opportunity to enjoy it?"

"Not how you intend," I say, reaching for an apple – the only thing he thought to pack for our so-called picnic. "If Father knew what we were about, he would insist on a chaperon."

He flops onto his back, hands behind his head. "I don't want to go back to being proper and formal at all costs. Can't you just agree with me for once, Elizabeth, and enjoy the afternoon?"

I lay down beside Will, curling myself against him, arm sprawling over his chest and one leg twining with his. He moves one arm so it is around my shoulders, drawing me closer. "I don't know where my shoes are."

"That is not what I asked you, Elizabeth."

"I'm afraid," I confess into his shoulder, taking in the scent of smoke and soot and sweat. "Afraid I love you _too__much. _ Do you think that is even possible?" I ask. "I remember a time when I thought of dresses and parties and pirate stories but now all I think of is you."

"That is not a bad thing, Elizabeth."

"It is frightening!" I insist, trying to borrow my face more into him, perhaps to muffle my words. "I lay awake at night worrying that I am not pretty enough or smart enough or worldly enough to hold your fancy."

"I should be saying those words to you," Will says. "I am just a Blacksmith turned Pirate. You are the Governor's Daughter. I'm the one reaching higher than my station."

"Honestly, I don't care about that," I sigh, raising my head to look him in the eye. "Stations and titles are so silly and only serve to keep people apart. It shouldn't matter who we love."

Will touches my cheek with his free hand, caressing lightly with his roughened hands. "I am very glad you've never followed society rules."

A very wicked thought comes over me and I shimmy out of Will's grasp despite his protests. "Don't grab at me!" I admonish, placing myself just out of reach.

Will flops down flat on his back, throwing an arm over his eyes. "Elizabeth, we had a very enjoyable moment going. Don't spoil it."

"I shan't spoil it," I say, hiking up my skirts to a dangerously indecent height. "I've thought of a new game to play."

"I'm tired of your games," he complains. "We're too old for games."

"This is a special one that you shall like very well," I promise, arranging myself so that I'm straddling his hips, letting my skirts fall back down to cover my legs and ankles. I rock slightly, testing out my balance. Will uncovers his eyes, watching me with a mixture of surprise, dread, and perhaps hope.

"If you continue on, you shall be able to tell just how much your little 'game' affects me," he says in a horse whisper. "Don't toy with me, Elizabeth. Please, don't."

"I'm not," I insist, testing my balance once more, resting both hands on his chest in order to steady myself. "Remember when we first met and you were half drowned?"

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"Let us pretend you've nearly drowned and I must revive you." I lean forward, placing my mouth against his to show what I mean by 'revive.'

The game is very well received by Will.

"How did I. . .How did I end up on my back?" I ask, slightly dazed after several glorious revival efforts.

"It's time to switch games," Will says very seriously as he unties my garters and begins to unroll my stockings. "This is one I just thought of."

"What. . .What is it?"

"It's called 'Doctor,'" he says in the same serious, intense tone. "Lay still. I must examine you."


	2. Chapter 2

PART II

"Am I. . .Am I going to like this game?" I ask in a half-whisper, only half-reclining on my elbows and trying to lay still as requested but it is very, very difficult with Will's hands grazing my legs as he skims my stockings down my legs. My mind goes to all sorts of naughty places that Papa would smartly object to.

"What do you think so far?" Will asks, lifting one of my feet into his callous roughened hands.

"I could. . .I could get used to it," I say as he begins to massage the arch of my foot before moving slowly up to my calf. "It's. . .It's rather nice."

"I'm hoping for more than rather nice."

"It's. . .um. . .splendid?" I try once more, blinking several times to clear my rapidly fogging mind as his hands move farther. "Will, I--"

"Your skin is so smooth," he whispers, rearranging my skirts so he can get at my knees which I believe rather knobbly and scarred from the times we used to hit each other with our wooden pirate swords as children. "It feels almost a sin to touch it with my work roughened hands."

"I like sin," I say before blushing at my stupid mouth getting ahead of my stupid brain. "I mean I like you. Your hands I mean. Oh, bother." I frown. "Ignore me."

"I've tired," he says. "I found it impossible."

Will flicks my skirts back down to where they belong, seeming to lose interest – perhaps because of my horrid knees. Instead, he begins a new "examination" starting with each finger and moving upwards. Somewhere near my elbow, he replaces his exploring fingers in favor of his lips . . .

"Goodness," I breath, biting down on my lower lip to hold in what would surely be a rather wanton sigh as his teeth graze my earlobe. "That was rather nice."

Will laughs, rocking back on his haunches to look me in the eye. "Remember, I want more than 'rather nice.'"

"Then you shall have to try harder," I say, hoping I look innocent as I widen my eyes. "My compliments don't come cheap, Mr. Turner."

"Oh, I can try very hard. Very hard indeed," Will promises, looking rather mischievous and determined all at once as he pushes on my shoulders. I pull at his hands to bring him down flat on the blanket with me, but the gesture only succeeds in landing him on top of me. Which is rather nice in its own right. We can't help but laugh over it and Will's face somehow manages to end up pressed into my bosom.

"Why do you smell of oranges there?" he asks, lifting his head. "I never noticed before."

"You were never in the habit of resting your head there before," I say matter-of-factly.

"An oversight I hope to rectify," Will says, returning his head to comfort of my bosom. He probably imagined it soft too. Like the rest of my skin.

I sigh, swirling my fingers in his dark hair. "Can we stay like this forever, Will?"

"You'll hear no objections from me, Elizabeth."

I smile, loving the feel of his hair through my fingers. "I'm glad."


End file.
